


Ride Or Die

by cryingcryptids (tatterwitch)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Car Chases, Car Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingerfucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Street Racing, Trans Character, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, afab language, death mention, street gangs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/cryingcryptids
Summary: Shiro’s eyes flick up and then over to Keith. They flicker, lightning striking through storm clouds, and an answering smile makes the split in his lip pull apart again.“Let’s give them a show, yeah, baby?”Blood leaks down his chin and Keith wants to lap it away. He settles for palming his soaked panties again and flipping the bird out the still-open window.“Let’s.” He shoves his boot down hard.The car leaps beneath his touch, tons of metal hurtling along the barren road. Wind pulls at his hair. Locks stick to the drying sweat and blood on his skin as Shiro reaches over.Blunt-tipped fingers slide hot and heavy over Keith’s thigh. Shiro leans across the space between the seats. His breath washes hot over Keith’s neck and ear as he pushes his fingertips under the waist of his panties.Soaked lace and cotton pull taut, sparking the inferno in Keith’s belly again.





	Ride Or Die

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to the wonderful Gee ([gee-lil-shit](https://twitter.com/geelilshit))!   
> I was thrilled when I was assigned as your Secret Santa for the DSS' Holiday Event. I'd been keeping this AU tucked away for a while but when I saw your request, I knew that it was a perfect match! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing!
> 
> Here's a [moodboard](https://twitter.com/cryingcryptids/status/1076642278905651200) for the AU! And a [playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLdg9B9pLae_XlANx83BF_C-QIGFAtBKAi)!

Keith and Shiro are kings of the street.

 

Their names are synonymous with the tense silence before a fight.

 

It's understood that  _ you do not fuck with them _ in any way, shape, or form.

 

Keith, with his long dark hair and lean, lithe body. His eyes fringed with thick lashes and smokey with kohl and messy shadow. His lips a sinfully soft pink that matches the shade of his bubblegum as it snaps between his teeth. Piercings wink in his ears and another on his tongue. His clothing is androgynous and evokes both intrigue and more than a little mild fear.

 

Shiro, with his silvery undercut and gun-barrel eyes. He's a weapon walking if there was ever one. A scuffed metal prosthesis curls around Keith's shoulder as easily as it does the trigger of the pistol he keeps tucked under his arm. The grips of the gun are all opalescent. Scars pull his skin all over, peeking from beneath the collar of his jacket and under the sleeves.

 

The pair orbit each other closely, never out of sight of the other.

 

They're both grey and steeped in the darkness that all lost souls are. Light filters through cracks sometimes, only to be doused in the same pitch black that fills the spaces between stars. They'll save a young girl from the bruises that circle her throat and wrists and bloom like fallen iris petals across her cheek and chin. The next day her pimp is found draped over the hood of his car, a sickening display that makes even the bellies of the hardened cops turn.

 

The ends justify the means....But the means are often brutal and very much enjoyed.

 

Keith carries an array of knives on his person at all times but one of his favorite weapons to sling around is a stained-black bat. Its grip is leather; once pink and black, now darkened from sweat and spatters of rusty darkness. Further up, the wood is studded with nails and wrapped in barbed wire.

 

It's after a night using that same array of brutal weaponry that Keith taunts Shiro into taking him where they could be found so, so easily.

 

The abandoned lot is filled with cars still running. Headlights cut through the darkness, dusty amber and dim yellow.

 

The lights of the city turn the sky a hazy orange that fades into the dark pitch-blue of night.

 

Wind rattles the chain link fence around the lot. A stand of sparse brown grass rustles.

 

Sticky pools of darkness paint the cracked tar and cement. Smears of the same inky red surround the cooling piles of lifelessness.

 

The hood of the car is hot under Keith's ass as he lets the bat dangle from his fingers.

 

He lets Shiro finish freeing a leg from the tight cling of his jeans and stops him from going for the other with a single finger against the base of his throat.

 

Dust and moths flutter in the light cast by the cars.

 

Goosebumps race along Keith’s bared skin as he splays his legs over the black paint. 

 

The thin fabric of his top clings to his damp fingers. He pushes his hand down his abdomen, scrapes his nails through trimmed curls. Hot slickness coats his fingers.

 

Shiro's lips part, bruised red. The lower is split, blood just beginning to scab. Flecks of the same stuff have just begun to dry over his cheeks and jaw. It streaks a lock of his hair.

 

Hot fingers, metal and flesh, curl tight around Keith's calves.

 

Shiro's eyes drag up from where Keith's fingers play.

 

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded. His tongue darts out to trace over his lip, leaving them shiny with more than just the last smears of blood.

 

Keith lets his body roll against his touch. He smirks as Shiro's hands flex behind his knees.

 

"Am I pretty, Daddy?"

 

Shiro shudders, lids shuttering before opening to display eyes that gleam with a decidedly predatory glint.

 

"The prettiest. I've never seen anything like you, baby."

 

Keith grins.

  
The heel of his boot squeaks against the hood of the car. He uses two fingers to part himself, runs a third over his hole. It glistens with his arousal as he holds it in the scant space between them.

  
Shiro lunges forward with a half-muffled growl. His lips wrap around the tip of Keith's finger. His tongue swirls, catching every bit of Keith's wetness. Above the collar of his shirt, his throat bobs as he swallows.

 

There's a wet pop when Keith pulls his hand back.

 

He bites his lip as he drags the slickened finger between his folds and over the throbbing bundle of nerves at the apex. After a few more seconds of toying with himself, he spreads himself once more and plants his free hand behind himself.   
The hood of the car is nearly too hot but Keith can't bring himself to care.

  
Shiro coils almost imperceptibly. The leather of his jacket pulls taut. A muscle jumps in his jaw. Thick fingers spasm behind Keith's knees.

 

"C'mon, Daddy. I want your mouth-"

  
Keith doesn't even get to finish his sentence before Shiro springs. 

  
Hot hands slide up the inside of his thighs. Nails scrape over a hipbone. Hot breath washes over the wetness smeared over his skin.

 

Shiro's mouth is searing as it opens over Keith's clit. His tongue rolls, flat and slow, dragging a whimper of pleasure from Keith's chest. 

  
Keith pulls his fingers up and sinks them into Shiro's hair. He doesn't bother smothering his sounds as Shiro purses his lips and sucks at him. 

  
The bat succumbs to a mixture of gravity and physics. The battered wood slides over smooth paint and clatters to the ground.

  
Keith splays himself wider and bucks his hips up against Shiro's sinful work.

 

" _ Mmmnn _ . Oh....Fuck. Love you. Love your mouth.  _ Oh, fuck, Shiro _ -"

 

Shiro makes a noise and pulls away. He lifts one hand away from Keith's thigh. Blunt-tipped fingers slip through Keith's wetness.

  
"You close, baby?"

 

Keith breathes out harshly and nods.

  
"Yeah."

 

Sirens wail in the distance. Car horns honk.

  
Shiro pulls back again, mouth only inches away from where Keith needs it most. His lips and chin shine with the proof of Keith’s pleasure. 

 

He leans further back despite Keith’s snarl and grabbing hands. 

 

Gravel pops as he stands and jams Keith’s leg back into his pants. He tugs Keith off the hood of the car and makes for the passenger side as the sirens screech onto the interstate. 

 

The door clicks open and claps shut. 

 

Keith snatches his bat from the ground before slipping through the open window. He drops the weapon between the seats and gets the car in gear before pressing the pedal down.

 

The car jolts a little as the tires roll over something that crunches faintly. Dust kicks up in their wake as they peel out of the lot and onto the open highway. 

 

Keith grins, all teeth and glinting eyes as he palms himself through the still-open fly of his jeans.

 

Blue and red lights flash in the rearview mirror. 

 

Shiro’s eyes flick up and then over to Keith. They flicker, lightning striking through storm clouds, and an answering smile makes the split in his lip pull apart again. 

 

“Let’s give them a show, yeah, baby?”

 

Blood leaks down his chin and Keith wants to lap it away. He settles for palming his soaked panties again and flipping the bird out the still-open window.

 

“Let’s.” He shoves his boot down hard.

 

The car leaps beneath his touch, tons of metal hurtling along the barren road. Wind pulls at his hair. Locks stick to the drying sweat and blood on his skin as Shiro reaches over.

 

Blunt-tipped fingers slide hot and heavy over Keith’s thigh. Shiro leans across the space between the seats. His breath washes hot over Keith’s neck and ear as he pushes his fingertips under the waist of his panties. 

 

Soaked lace and cotton pull taut, sparking the inferno in Keith’s belly again.

 

Sirens split the night and drown out the heady song of heavy breaths, slick noises, and pumping bass from the radio. Lights strobe and fill the mirrors.

 

Teeth press into the curve of delicate skin, carving a crescent of blooming red and violet. 

 

Keith catches the radio’s volume dial between two fingers and cranks the volume up. He cants his hips up a touch and groans at the rub of calloused fingers. 

 

A squad car flies past him, brake lights flaring red before Keith jerks the wheel and sends them into a tailspin. The car’s tires squeal as Keith wastes no time in hitting the gas again after shifting gears. His boots dance over the pedals even as he rocks his hips up.

 

Shiro laughs, all wild and breathless into his neck as headlights blur by and sirens scream in their wake. He dips his fingers along the seam of Keith, gets them slick and hot before slowly slipping the very tip of one in. It pets over Keith’s entrance teasingly.

 

The gears shift again. The engine roars. Keith maneuvers around several sets of spike-strips with a savage grin, a breathy gasp hanging from his lips. 

 

A roadblock fills the next exit. Two cop cars angle across the ramp, lights strobing. Red and blue spheres dance across the subtle glitter of the tarmac. 

 

The engine revs again.

 

Keith jerks the wheel at the very last minute. 

 

Rubber squeals as they fishtail. The two closest pursuing squad cars fly past, brakelights flaring too late. Dirt and dust cloud the air. The car bumps and jostles into and out of the ditch before jumping back up onto the road. A series of sharp pops breaks out and Keith sends the car into another fishtail. 

 

Streetlights pass overhead, ambery illumination flickering like morse code. It washes over the interior of the car; makes Shiro’s skin and hair turn gold and copper. 

 

Shiro sucks a fresh mark beneath the bolt of Keith’s jaw. His wrist flexes against Keith’s hip as the heel of his palm rubs so perfectly against the top of Keith’s cunt. 

 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet.”

 

Keith bites his lip, gasps in a lungful of the cold air rushing through the open windows. His thighs quiver against the leather seat.

 

He turns off the main street and down a road marked with some generic name. The streetlamps grow sparse. The street branches and Keith calculates for but a moment before turning right. 

 

Shiro’s fingers crook. 

 

Stars wink around the edges of Keith’s vision. He moans unashamedly, rolling his hips into the pumping of Shiro’s hand. Beneath the music and wind and distant wailing, slick sounds make heat crawl up the back of his neck. He can feel the color flood his cheeks and spread down his chest as he squirms.

 

Smooth pavement gives way to cracked tar and an abundance of potholes. The streetlights grow inconsistent. Houses fade into trailer parks before emptying into abandoned lots overgrown and barren. 

 

Keith shifts through gears again, panting harshly. He takes another offshoot street, then another. 

 

Trees rise up. Tar cracks further and turns to unkempt dirt and gravel. The headlights dim under Keith’s thumb. He slows, pulls the car off, down a road that’s more logging trail than anything else. When the trees hide them around a bend, he puts the car in park and cuts the engine.

 

Shiro’s on him in an instant.

 

The steering wheel knocks against Keith’s knees as he clambers into the passenger seat and over Shiro’s lap. Warm metal catches at his bloodied fingers. It parts with a hiss that Shiro mirrors. 

 

Shiro plants his feet on the floor and pushes up, easily lifting Keith right along with himself. 

 

Keith bites his lip hard and drags his mind away from how hot that is. He hooks his fingers in the loops of Shiro’s pants and drags them down until Shiro’s cock is freed. 

 

It bobs up against Shiro’s belly, all dark and thick. The head just peeks from beneath the foreskin and Keith’s mouth waters. It twitches against his palm, a pearl of precum beading at the slit. 

 

Shiro shoves at Keith’s pants with something like a snarl. His nose wrinkles, scar pulling across his cheeks. 

 

Keith’s head knocks against the roof of the car before he manages to shuck his jeans free. One leg catches around a boot but he can’t bring himself to care when Shiro hauls him back over his lap. 

 

The length of Shiro’s cock slides through the slick mess between Keith’s thighs. 

 

Keith grips the headrest to either side of Shiro’s head as he rocks his hips languidly. His nails leave little crescents in the leather. 

 

“Fuck.” Shiro’s hands run up his thighs to palm his ass. “Need you bad. Need my cock in you. Need to hear you. Need to feel you.”

 

Keith moans and tries to get a hand between them to line Shiro up. It earns him a swat to his wrist and a sharp nip at his chin.

 

“You want me, baby?”

 

Hair falls into Keith’s eyes as he nods. 

 

Shiro lifts one hand, warm metal thumb slipping past his lips to press his tongue down. Silver eyes flash in the darkness, more black than anything. The edge of his teeth glint in the barest hint of a smirk. He keeps the same teasing, lazy pace with his hips as Keith pants over his hand.

 

“You gotta say it, baby. Tell me what you want.”

 

Keith whimpers when Shiro pulls his hand away so he can speak. His lashes flutter when the head of Shiro’s cock rubs just so over his clit. 

 

“You. I want you. Need you. Nnn, Shiro, please.” 

 

Shiro tuts softly and only ruts harder, faster. It’s more but not enough and it makes Keith’s breath catch on something like a sob. 

 

“You’ve got me. You want something more? You’re gonna have to tell me.”

 

Keith whines and tries to pitch his hips just right to make Shiro’s cockhead catch against his entrance. It glides between his folds infuriatingly, unbearably close.

 

“Need your cock. Daddy, give it to me. I need it.”

 

Shiro grins, fingers circling his base. He taps the head of his cock against Keith’s cunt, the smack of it loud and wet. 

 

“Mmm, you’re missing something somewhere in there.”

 

“ _ Please! _ ” Keith’s voice cracks as Shiro lines up and thrusts in smoothly. 

 

His mouth drops open around a soundless cry. Leather catches under his nails as he scrabbles for purchase. 

 

Shiro sets a rhythm that’s brutal and deep, cock hitting every spot that makes Keith’s mind implode in a firestorm of white sparks. 

 

The lewd, slick noises sound impossibly loud in the confines of the car. Skin claps against skin. Their mouths fall together, teeth clicking messily in a too-hasty kiss. 

 

Keith can hear himself chanting as he feels his orgasm building fast and uncontrollable. His fingers sink into Shiro’s hair, dig into scarred skin. His nails leave thin pink lines over Shiro’s heaving chest. The small bites of pain make him hiss.

 

“I’m gonna come. Daddy. Daddy, I’m gonna come-”

 

Shiro only quickens his pace, car rocking with the intensity. His thumb presses over Keith’s clit and rolls it expertly. Fever-bright eyes glint in the filtered moonlight that seeps through the windshield. Sweat makes pale hair cling to his brow. Muscles flex and play under his skin in a display that makes Keith’s belly tighten and flutter. 

 

“Do it, baby. Come. Come for me.”

 

Keith pants raggedly, mouth dropping open as the snapping ball of heat his belly ruptures. His breath combusts in his lungs as he keens. He ripples around Shiro’s length, eyes fluttering shut.

 

Shiro swears, low and hoarse. His head presses into Keith’s neck. Pale, damp hair sticks to his sweaty skin. Hot breath mists the dip of his throat. Shiro’s hips stutter wildly. His fingers tighten sharply and the promise of bruises sends a thrill tripping down Keith’s spine. 

 

The wind whistles softly through the trees. Sirens still wail far off in the night. The leather of the seats squeaks quietly as Shiro shifts into a more comfortable position. 

 

Something hot and wet rolls down the crease of Keith’s thigh; cum or his own slick, a mixture of both, probably. It makes him shudder all over again. 

 

Keith presses a kiss into Shiro’s crown.

 

“You gonna pull out so we can clean up, big boy?”

 

Shiro makes a noise that’s half whine and half groan. He noses deeper into Keith’s neck and tightens his arms around Keith’s middle.

 

“Like you just like this. Feeling you all hot and soaked around me. Knowing it’s me making you this wet-”

 

Keith pinches the top of Shiro’s hip.

 

“Nasty.”

 

Teeth slide across his skin as Shiro grins sloppily.

 

“You love it.”

 

Keith sighs a little and lets himself firmly into Shiro’s lap. It….Does feel nice. Odd...But nice. He loops his arms around Shiro’s shoulders.

 

“I love you.”

 

Shiro’s brow creases. His face softens, lashes dipping almost shyly. A hint of his dimple flashes as he smiles all gentle and disarming. 

 

“I love you, too, baby.”

  
  



End file.
